


Gonna Say That I Tried

by Samirant



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samirant/pseuds/Samirant
Summary: Gingerbread and death threats, a Braime Sevenmas Story.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 72
Kudos: 239





	Gonna Say That I Tried

**Author's Note:**

> Two hours left in my time zone, so I managed a Christmas fic after all! Well, Sevenmas fic. Semantics. My best wishes to everyone!

Brienne snuggled more deeply into her coat as she walked, wishing she’d thought to wear thicker mittens as her frigid fingers ached around the box in her hands. It had seemed a further waste of time to hunt them down; she’d been running behind and it was a short walk from her home to her car and then from her car to Sansa’s place. She’d underestimated the amount of parking available, however, and the full block’s trek already had her shivering. 

Thoughts of warmer mittens, curses of the light snow blowing around her face and the crunch of salt underfoot was forgotten as soon as he came into sight. 

Jaime Lannister approached from the other end of the block and she could already see him adjusting his gait, taking longer, loping steps so he could meet her at the sidewalk to Sansa’s home. Brienne clenched the gift more tightly as he came to a stop, green eyes alight and his smile half hidden under a scarf. Several golden curls poked out from the bottom of his beanie and it was all she could do to keep from reaching out and tucking them back in. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, voice muffled by his bright red scarf. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be here for another hour,” Brienne blurted out. “You said-”

“I did say,” Jaime shrugged, “then I decided I’d much rather be here around now.”

Brienne chewed on her bottom lip, weighing her response. Was it annoyance? Gladness? Irritation? Eagerness? She never felt just one thing with him. It had her stomach bouncing either way and the way Jaime was looking at her wasn’t helping matters. “Why did-”

“Gods, it’s fucking freezing, let’s get inside,” Jaime said with a deliberately heavy shudder. He made a gallant motion, waving Brienne to go in front of him and she could feel his eyes heavy on her as she walked ahead. It made her insides curl in a newish way, sending a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold straight from her chest to...

 _Oh,_ she thought suddenly, _that’s it._

Whatever Brienne might have or have not done about it was moot, as the door opened just as they came on the porch, a waft of gloriously warm and sugar-scented air hitting her all at once. Sansa waved them in, exclaiming over Brienne’s red cheeks and the dusting of snow on Jaime’s shoulders. 

Sansa closed the door behind them and cocked her head. “Did you two come together?”

Brienne quickly replied, “No, we just met up,” at the exact moment Jaime said, “Right now? No.”

He shot her a wide, self-satisfied grin, now fully potent and on display as he unwrapped the scarf and Brienne wanted to wrap her hands around his neck to replace it. Her expression must have said as much, because Jaime cleared his throat and said, “Happy Sevenmas, Sansa.”

“Thank you! To you as well, and you, Brienne,” Sansa said happily and took notice of the box. “Is that for me? Sorry, that sounds awfully greedy, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Brienne replied, handing over the box so she could shed her outerwear and add it to the pile by the doorway. “It _is_ for you, something small. I know you said gifts weren’t necessary, but it was so kind of you to invite everyone over.”

“You are so lovely, and oh,” Sansa laughed lightly when she saw the tag, “and thank you, Jaime, as well.”

Brienne frowned in confusion and then annoyance - definitely annoyance this time - when Sansa flipped the card over and she could see _To Sansa_ and underneath _From Brienne._

She’d certainly only written _that_ the previous day when she’d finished wrapping it. Somehow in the time between then and now, however, the addition of _and Jaime_ had made it alongside hers. The messy scrawl was unmistakable and Brienne raised her eyes to find Jaime trying his damn best to look innocent and utterly failing. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Brienne told him over the sound of Sansa ripping the package open. It came out far more fondly than she’d meant. 

Jaime just shrugged and said, “Left some dragons to cover my part.” When Sansa pulled out the snow globe, cooing over its miniature rendition of the ancient Winterfell castle, he added, “I may need a refund.”

“Unbelievable,” Brienne muttered and turned on her heel to walk away. Jaime’s shout of _nice shirt!_ only hastened her departure. 

She avoided him to the best of her ability, the effort made easier by the crowd of people milling around Sansa’s home. Several she knew from their school years, others from work, all of them as far from home as she was in King’s Landing. Sansa had bemoaned the fact that going to Winterfell for the holidays was impossible, her disappointment finally abated by the idea of throwing a get together for all those at loose ends, just like her. 

Brienne was handed a cup of heavily spiced wine and she drank it as she admired the decorations, which were heavy on the greenery and sparkle, with whimsical elements like snow fairies and dancing direwolves thrown in. She also made sure to find every sprig of mistletoe hanging in doorways and resolutely kept a wide berth from them. 

Sansa found her later, as Brienne was trying her best to politely extricate herself from a conversation with Robyn Arryn, who had certain opinions about the Sevenmas display and an insistence that the gods of fertility were too often overlooked during the overlapping season. He was cut short by Sansa’s shooing and Brienne mouthed a silent _thank you_ when he finally ambled off. 

“Have you decorated a cookie yet? I have a whole set up the kitchen.” Sansa’s smile was so warm and cheerful, Brienne couldn’t find a reasonable way to decline. Upon finding Jaime at the table, frosting bag in hand, she lamented that she should have tried anyway. 

“Brienne! What do you think, have I got it right?” He picked up the gingerbread figure, showing her the smear of yellow on top of its head and two blue dots where the eyes should be. “Need the red for the lips and then, oh, thanks Jon.”

Picking up a blank cookie, Brienne put some space between them and hoped no one noticed that she’d left Jaime’s question unanswered. Not that he could let it lie, loudly asking Jon to trade again, this time for the near-full bag of light brown frosting. 

When Jon asked what he could possibly need it for, Jaime just said “Freckles” and proceeded to dot the frosting all over the cookie’s face. 

Brienne put blond curls on her cookie, waited until Jaime looked over at her, and viciously snapped the head off entirely. 

Jaime only grinned and continued to decorate. He nudged Jon at his side and asked, “What do you think? Since Tarth is so reluctant to give her opinion.”

“Eh, not bad,” Jon said absently and resumed putting white swirls on his own gingerbread wolf. 

“It’s missing something though.” There was a tone to his words that had Brienne going rigid, her stomach once again doing acrobatics within her when Jaime picked up the bag again and started putting deliberate dots - freckles - all over the body. She felt her breath come a little faster when Jaime’s tongue poked out the side of his mouth, his face a study in concentration as he put a trio of freckles just below where a belly button would be. Standing back, he looked over his work and nodded smugly with satisfaction. “Yes, I think that’s it.”

She was going to kill him. 

Jaime lifted his eyes to hers and the brought the cookie up for her purview. “I nailed it, wouldn’t you say, Brienne?”

And then he _licked off the frosting._

She was going to kill him dead. 

Crumbled cookie remains in hand, Brienne scurried out of the kitchen before she could do something she’d regret. 

Or something she’d really enjoy. 

It was hard to differentiate between the two at the moment. 

She wandered into the group inside the den, where Theon was leading a raucous and frankly horrific rendition of Randyl the Red Winged Raven, his voice amplified by the karaoke machine at his feet. She stayed there far longer than she would have on any other day, her thoughts too consumed by the memory of Jaime’s pink tongue, the wicked the look in his eyes when he-

“Oh good gods,” she groaned and got a decidedly offended glance from Theon’s girlfriend. “No, Jeyne, not him, he’s… lovely.” 

Jeyne only rolled her eyes and advised her that lying wasn’t her strong suit. She walked away, likely not hearing Brienne’s response of, “Believe me, I know.”

It was another half hour before she and Jaime crossed paths again, though that suggested some idea of happenstance. There was nothing casual, however, about Brienne’s walk down the hallway being interrupted by a hand shooting out from the bathroom, grabbing a hold of her turtleneck and yanking her inside, the door slamming closed as soon as she was. 

Jaime’s mouth was on hers, sweet tasting tongue and all, even as she heard the click of the lock under his hand. 

She’d already been warmed by the crowd and the merrily lit fires, but Brienne melted completely at the feel of Jaime’s lips against her own, the press of his hands against her sides and then her back as he pulled her in closely. 

They managed to get her sitting on the bathroom vanity, Jaime moaning into her mouth when her legs immediately lifted and wrapped around his hips. Brienne lost herself to the sensation, the heat of Jaime’s body against hers, the bite of his nails through her shirt into her skin. She answered by nipping at his mouth, her hands shoved into his curls and pulling lightly until Jaime moaned again. 

They kissed and kissed and kissed some more until Brienne drew back for a gasp of air, the back of her head banging against the mirror and causing her to gasp from the pain instead. 

Jaime made a sympathetic noise and rubbed at the sore spot; Brienne winced through it, somehow glad that he was there, despite being the direct cause of her injury. But that brought to mind exactly where they were and she found herself glaring at him as the pain ebbed away. 

She kicked at the back of his thigh. _Hard._

Jaime buckled from the impact, holding her more tightly so that he didn’t stumble away. “What the hells was that for?”

“You were supposed to get here an hour after me. You added your name to the gift,” Brienne seethed, even if her damned body refused to let him loose enough to allow an escape. “You tried seducing me with godsdamned gingerbread.”

“Think I rather succeeded with that,” Jaime murmured. “Besides, it worked last night with Sevenmas movies, I was just carrying on with the theme.”

He must have felt her foot raise up for another bruising kick, because Jaime reached back to hold her leg at bay. It brought to mind a very delightful position from the night before and Brienne found her annoyance fading away quickly, much as the smarting sting of her head. 

“I didn’t ask for much Jaime, just a day. A day to tell my best friend when she wasn’t distracted by the holiday celebrations. But you couldn’t give me that, could you?”

“Couldn’t help myself,” Jaime agreed. He was kissing her again before she knew it, but Brienne fought for the presence of mind to push his shoulders back, amused by the grumpy look on his face. 

“Are you trying to make me dump you already?”

“Of course not, I only…” He ran his hands down her arms, linking their fingers and swinging them back and forth. “We waited long enough for this, haven’t we?

She had, certainly. Brienne hadn’t known even twenty four hours back that Jaime had, too. Throw in a pair of holiday films, Jaime edging closer on the couch as the night deepened and the fire in the hearth that paled in comparison to the heat between them and, well. Merry Sevenmas to them both. 

“I really do like your shirt.” Jaime tucked a finger under the turtleneck and smirked when he saw the marks he’d left behind. 

“This is the only one I’ve got, don’t snag it,” Brienne protested. She batted Jaime’s hand away when he lingered. 

“Come to my place tonight. And tomorrow. The day after that, as well. You won’t need any shirts at all if you do.”

Brienne rolled her eyes in a flimsy effort to hide how her heart - and other parts - leapt at the thought. “You’re a pest, why do I like you so much?”

“Personality defect, most likely.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Debatable.” Jaime sighed and gave her a quick peck. “I _can_ wait, but only so long. You’ll tell her today?”

Brienne caught his chin between her hands. “I promise. There are just so many people here, you know they’d be insufferable about it. Better to let them spread the news where we don’t have to witness so many ‘I-told-you-so’s.”

“They’ll still do it.”

“Yes, and I can silence my phone when they do.” Brienne pulled him in for another kiss and then pushed him off so she could hop down from the vanity. “But the present, Jaime? Seriously?”

“First couple’s gift, might as well get some of the milestones out of the way.” He scrunched his nose. “Could have bought five of those for the amount I covered.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Brienne replied, exasperated. “Besides a gift doesn’t have to be expensive to be nice or thoughtful.”

“That’s Brienne Tarth, nice and thoughtful.” He pulled her back and Brienne went without argument. She wished that they could have spent the afternoon together, heedless of comments and reactions from people they knew well or barely at all. It certainly would have been more fun with Jaime at her side, he would have sent Robyn scurrying with a quick sharp remark before he could even finish saying ‘primal’. They would have shared wine and laughed quietly together over Theon’s warbling vocals. The cookie nonsense probably would have still happened, because there was no stopping Jaime from being Jaime.

He was smiling warmly at her, hands still at her sides and a feeling in his eyes that she wasn’t quite ready to name yet, or even recognize in herself. But Brienne looked back at him and knew in Jaime she’d found someone good, with honorable intentions, an open heart and -

\- _was a complete and utter impulsive ass_ , she found herself thinking only twenty minutes later, when Sansa encouraged everyone in the living room to go around and say what their favorite gift was. 

She was already dreading it when Jaime took two huge steps to one side and put himself squarely underneath the mistletoe and said, “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I unwrapped something nice and thoughtful last night.”

Brienne was going to kill him. She was going to kill him dead.

(She walked over and kissed him anyway.)

**Author's Note:**

> Slips, you're the the best <3


End file.
